Customer Reviews

Mary & the Giant (GollanczF.)

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

On the surface, at least, this is an early feminist novel. It's about a young woman in a small town, a victim of abuse, trying to make her own way in the world and constantly imposed upon by various men. Some of these men want to please themselves with her, some want to define her by traditional or untraditional roles, some genuinely want to help, but none of them can see her for who she is. You might think this was just a thinly disguised fictional version of "The Feminine Mystique" except for a couple of things. First, while the protagonists in some feminist literature seem like nothing more than bullhorns for the authors' philosophies, Mary is a complex, needy, strong, often infuriating character right from the start. Second, "Mary and the Giant" is by Philip K. Dick. And I've been reviewing the man's work for a while now, so let me repeat what I've said before; absolutely nothing you find in a PKD novel is as simple as it seems.

Mary Ann Reynolds is a 20-year-old high school graduate in Pacific Park, California, who starts off the novel working in the office of a furniture factory. She's dissatisfied with her life, her job and her family, but unlike some people in fiction and in life, she makes no effort to hide her dissatisfaction. This obviously puts her at a disadvantage with many of the people she meets, but it sure makes her interesting to read about. What's more, this strength of character becomes critical very quickly; it's no surprise to see that she likes to hang out in places where women of her age and race ordinarily don't show up, nor that this habit exposes her to some frightening scenes. There are plenty of men around who would love to help her out of these jams, for various reasons. However uncomfortable she is, though, Mary isn't interested in rescue. Now, that's someone worth reading about.

PKD wrote "Mary and the Giant" in 1954, although it wasn't published until after his death, as was the case with most of his non-sf work. He did not focus on female characters very much, and his difficulties with women in his life are well known. So it's pretty inspiring to note that, without much practice at dealing with female characters, and nearly ten years before "The Feminine Mystique" came out, PKD could imagine a character who could defy any attempt to subdue her and fight for some kind of independence. What's more, unlike a lot of his subsequent female characters, Mary is not a harpy. She can be difficult, and even obtuse, but she's never cruel for its own sake.

Well, what about the men in her life? She's got someone who claims to be her fiancé, a blues singer who attracts her with enormous power, a beast of a father, a couple of employers who barely notice her tremendous energy, and Joseph Schilling. He's the one who turns "Mary and the Giant" into a tragedy. He's in his fifties, has spent a good bit of his life in the music business, meets Mary shortly after moving to her town and opening a classical-music record store, and falls for her hard. He's got a lot to offer her, too - helps her get away from her miserable home life, introduces her to a lot of interesting people, uses his knowledge of the world to make suggestions as to her future, and above all, leaves her alone when he realizes he can't be of any use. It's never spelled out, but on some level PKD seemed to realize that you can't help anyone unless you listen to them first. For a guy who spends most of his time playing music, Schilling isn't too good at that.

I guess it would be too much to ask that a novel written before 1963 follow through on its presentation of a woman as an independent human being, rather than as a reflection of some male character, particularly a novel written by a man. There were such novels, of course - "Sister Carrie" by Theodore Dreiser comes to mind - but they were pretty rare. The conclusion of "Mary and the Giant" is, unfortunately, a cop-out from this point of view. I won't go into detail except to say that it strikes me as a bit domestic for a novel about a woman growing into her own identity. Then again, I told you that nothing in PKD is as simple as it seems. This may just be PKD's way of showing us how a genuinely independent woman might find love that fulfills her. At least that approach makes her fulfillment a choice, instead of a gift from some man.

Now, who exactly is the giant of the title? Hard to say. Several of the male characters in this novel are pretty big guys, but no one jumps out as "the giant" - PKD never even uses that word in his narrative, at least not in any obvious way. Well, I'm sorry, folks, but I haven't got a good answer for this. We could say that the "giant" is the weight of tradition and expectation that Mary has to overcome or submit to, but that's kind of a cheap metaphor. Mary deserves better than that. I'll just have to leave it to you to interpret this for yourself. As ever, PKD seems confident that his readers can keep up with him. Reason enough to read his work.

Benshlomo says, If you find someone who expects a lot of you, follow him.

I loved this. It's one of Dick's better books. Story of strange young woman and how she finds her place in the world. Very interesting characters.

Completed in 1955, but not published until 1987, Mary and the Giant revolves around a subject close to Dick's heart, music. Almost everybody in the novel is related somehow to the music business; music is the constant topic of conversation and is usually playing in the background. Joe Schilling, the "giant" of the title, is a record-shop proprietor who represents a taste for the classical, while Mary Ann Reynolds, a young woman whom he hires as a sales clerk, gravitates to jazz. A very strong example of Dick's mainstream writing, Mary and the Giant is a tight, well-constructed narrative. The character of Mary is convincing and compelling. Although cold on the surface, she is a multilayered creation with whom the author empathizes strongly. Her refreshing honesty and directness are seductive. The scenes in the jazz club, the wild party, the sordid and claustrophobic atmosphere of Mary's family home, and the well-drawn subsidiary characters make this novel memorable.

This novel is a precursor to Dick's sci-fi masterpieces. Mary, a quirky, twenty year old suffering from a borderline personality disorder and dysphoria, takes center stage. Her mood swings, frigidity, diffused guilt, unstable identity and inability to decide who to mate with dominate the plot. Dick creates the character Mary living in an alien world- "sometime in a hundred years her world might exist." The womanizer, Schilling's attempt to bring her up to the surface and provide Mary with a retreat, a place to hide, fails miserably. Later, in his sci-fi, when Dick provides his misfit characters with alien worlds to inhabit his writing takes off. But trying to describe this sort of neurotic within the 1950's milieu barely works. The happy ending for Mary was a pleasant, though barely credible, surprise

This is my favorite book of Dick's. The everyday struggle of the characters tears at the heart. I actually prefer Dick's "regular" novels to his science fiction. Few saw clearer the reality around them than this master of the imagination.

Mary is a flake who practically dares you and the other characters in the novel to find a way to like her. She flits from one job/lover/domicile to another with some internal logic that seems completely inexplicable. I found no interesting philosophical quandary being explored as is true of much of Dick's work, just the flakiest of all his flaky female characters running from or to whatever runs through her mind or passes in front of her eyes with little to no explanation why. I found this book truly devoid of interesting characters, situations or ideas.